


Heaven Sent

by TheFairieQueen



Series: Yulma Week 2018 [3]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels, Alternate Universe - Guardian Angels, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Yulma Week 2018, angel lore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 10:28:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14591043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFairieQueen/pseuds/TheFairieQueen
Summary: After his innocence is lost, Kanda is demoted to the role of angel: the lowest rank of the celestial hierarchy.  But somewhere, it still exists, and a human of all things may be the one to help Kanda recover it... (Angel AU)





	Heaven Sent

**Author's Note:**

> Part 3 of Yulma Week 2018: Hydrangea – Tranquility, Wounded Heart, Grace.
> 
> It was intended to be a one-shot, but will have at least one or two more parts it’ll seem (this story just has a mind of its own?). R-watching the Angel Sanctuary OVA and getting dragged onto an angel AU bandwagon. (This isn’t actually based off Angel Sanctuary - but it did fuel inspiration.)
> 
> My angel lore is rusty, but I used to be really interested in them since my grandmother has always been heavily to angel lore. Definitely took some creative liberties though.
> 
> Happy reading!

The air was cool, and laced with the fragrance of fresh blossoms and moistened grass. Dewdrops glistened amongst leaves, like iridescent jewels suck as opal and crystal. Spring mornings were always like this: quiet, and ethereal. It was a special time where everything seemed to be graced with a unique kind of magic – otherworldly, and beautifully strange.  
  
And it was still. Still, and silent.  
  
Somewhere, something brushed through the air. The soundlessness of spring was disrupted.  
  
A feather fell. It was a white so pure that it seemed to almost glow.  
  
Once it touched the ground, the feather faded to gray.  
  


* * *

  
  
Angels were not all-knowing. They were not all-powerful. And they were weak.  
  
Despite what most humans believed, angels were not distinctly strong presences. Their power was limited, being the lowest-ranked of God’s divine children. In design, they were also closer to humans than any of the other celestials – the seraphim, the cherubim, the dominions…all of the rankings were more distant and exclusive in their makeup. But the angels were not.  
  
It was likely because angels frequented earth the most. They would occasionally engage with humans, usually by relaying some kind of message to them. Angels still had to be wary; they couldn’t allow themselves to be seen or touched in their true forms by humans, and would have to rely on signs to communicate with mortals.  
  
Angels were so weak and mindless. They only did what the archangels told them, and the archangels only did what the principalities told them to do. That was how the lowest sphere of celestials functioned.  
  
This is how it seemed to Kanda, at least. A small tinge of bitterness was left in his mouth. He was not an angel; he was one of the powers. A part of the second sphere of celestials, Kanda was one of the beings who was armed to assist in fighting the demons that threatened to crawl into the human realm. That had been his purpose.  
  
_Had been_. Although far superior to angels in strength and makeup, the powers still had a weakness that was the same as their strength. It was their innocence: divine weapons that the powers would use in combat. These were incredibly dangerous tools that could be utilized to fend off and destroy demons – but if the innocence was obliterated or even lost, then the celestial who wielded it would lose their power. Or at least, most of it.  
  
Kanda’s innocence had been lost. Somewhere, it had fallen to earth while in the midst of fighting.  
  
Kanda knew it was not destroyed. If it were, he would have felt its destruction in his core. He would have felt the sharp, scalding pain of its decimation as though the blow had been to his own heart.   
  
But, he had not felt it. And Kanda knew it existed elsewhere. _‘Somewhere.’_  
  
This was the one thing that prevented Kanda from full-on sneering at the demotion he received. Since he could no longer act as a power, he had been sent to assist the angels – a complete insult in any other situation. But the angels were the ones who went to earth the most frequently, and it would be a chance for Kanda to recover his innocence. If he did that, then he would be reinstated to his original ranking.  
  
Kanda might not have been the hopeful type, but in this case hoping was better than settling.  
  
His wings flapped behind him – four large, white, feathery wings that were so pure that they caused freshly fallen snow to look dull in comparison. Kanda watched the earth below with a bored, unimpressed look on his face. Angels were given assignments on a case-by-case basis from the higher-ranked celestials, while the rest remained on standby more or less watching over humanity.   
  
Kanda couldn’t say it was entertaining or even fulfilling; he had never had much interest in the humans and their ways. They were odd, flawed creatures, and sometimes Kanda even wondered what it was God saw in them.  
  
Dark blue irises continuing to scan the earth, Kanda felt himself growing restless. He felt so damn _powerless_ this way. If only he knew where his-  
  
Kanda’s thoughts stopped abruptly. He had almost missed it, but no, he had _felt_ it: the familiar pull, and ring of vibrations that danced in his ears. He could hear it call him. _‘Innocence…’_  
  
Quickly, Kanda left his post. He knew he had been stationed there specifically unless called upon for a specific assignment, but no archangel or principalitie had sought out Kanda for days. Kanda wasn’t about to wait for who knew how long to receive orders from a ranking that should have been _below_ him either; he was done with waiting, and he was done with being weak.  
  
Before anyone could see or stop him, Kanda flew down to earth as fast as he could.  
  


* * *

  
  
Humans couldn’t see angels – or any celestials, for that matter. The only way a human could do so was if the celestial willingly revealed themselves in one fashion or another.   
  
What humans could do was _feel_ the presence of an angel. A peaceful calm, or incredible lightness – sometimes, a human could unexpectedly be overwhelmed with an astounding flood of emotions. But that depended on the type of celestial, and what message they might have intended to bring the human.  
  
Kanda was careful to conceal himself even in that way. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself. While he couldn’t entirely mask the energy around him, Kanda was able to _shield_ himself thus subduing it. He just needed to recover his innocence and get out of the human realm.  
  
He felt the trail fading though. And Kanda panicked.  
  
_‘Where did it go!?’_ Kanda thought, as he flew even faster. He couldn’t lose it now – not when he was finally so _close.  
  
_ Kanda gritted his teeth, and kept flying. He had come to one of the mortals’ cities, and could see the humans below going on about their day so ignorantly. His eyes scanned downward, looking for any kind of hint or sign that his innocence had been present somewhere. But Kanda saw nothing, and he could feel the energy dissolving.  
  
Frustration boiled within Kanda. He _knew_ that he had felt it – he had felt the all too familiar call that resonated within Kanda’s own essence. That sort of sensation couldn’t be faked or imagined.   
  
An irritable sigh escaped Kanda, and he dived lower. He had hoped to avoid getting too close to the humans, but it seemed he would have to if he wanted to hold onto any chance of recovering his innocence.  
  
_‘It has to be here,’_ Kanda thought, as he tried desperately to pick up on the vibrations. _‘I know it does!’_  
  
Suddenly, Kanda felt it: the small vibration like a lulling, melodious siren.   
  
He rounded the corner of a building, following it. Gradually, Kanda could feel the pull becoming stronger. But as Kanda followed it, he could see he was coming into a more crowded area with humans as they walked along the sidewalks and cars whizzed down the streets.   
  
Kanda could feel himself growing restless. Any minute now he could find his innocence. The pull was so strong, and now it was _loud._ Kanda knew he was close, and his gaze skimmed the area-  
  
He stopped flying.   
  
There, in the crowd, Kanda could pinpoint the innocence. He couldn’t see the exact form it had taken, but he was able to recognize its aura, soft and luminous.   
  
But Kanda could see who had it: a human. A _human_ had his innocence.   
  
Kanda stared, mouth slightly agape. How could a human of all things have ended up with Kanda’s most powerful weapon? When Kanda got closer he could see just what form his innocence had taken, too: a bracelet, silver and with a crystalline lotus charm hanging from it.  
  
And this human was wearing it like some _trinket._  
  
Kanda’s wings bristled in agitation, and he eyed the human carefully. It was a young mortal – possibly still a teenager. He had short, somewhat unruly dark hair and an odd scar that stretched across the bridge of his nose. There was a rather boyish look to him, and his large blue eyes only caused him to appear youthful and naïve.  
  
_‘Damn it,’_ Kanda cursed, knowing there was absolutely _no way_ he could let this human walk around with a divine weapon on his wrist.  
  
The human walked along, and Kanda followed him. Since Kanda wasn’t omnipotent in his abilities, he couldn’t just take the bracelet away; he would have to wait until the mortal removed it.   It would de hard enough to try to remove the bracelet without actually having physical contact with the mortal, and given how close Kanda’s innocence was…that could easily trigger something by accident.  
  
Kanda could already feel himself reel a bit at the thought of having to wait around for this human to cooperate. But, he had already waited long enough merely to find out where his innocence had fallen. If he had to wait a bit longer for this blasted human boy, then so be it – Kanda would just watch over him until the bracelet was removed.  
  
It would have to come off sooner or later.  


* * *

  
  
One week. It had been one week, and the damned mortal still _had not taken the bracelet off._   
  
Kanda folded his arms, watching the human as he slept. The mortal – _Alma_ , Kanda had learned he was called – had fallen asleep at his desk, the side of his face pressed against his textbook with his notes strewn about chaotically.   
  
_‘Dumb human,’_ Kanda thought, knowing already that Alma would regret falling asleep at his desk when he woke up. Kanda noticed that Alma seemed to have a habit of falling asleep in awkward positions, usually that resulted in stiff necks and sore muscles.  
  
A small, pensive frown remained on Kanda’s face. He knew he couldn’t waste his time following this human around forever, and when he thought about it waiting for Alma to take the bracelet off was becoming tiresome. A week had already been too long as it was, and Kanda needed to move on.  
  
Without making any kind of noise, Kanda went over to where Alma was. He knew he needed to be cautious; celestials had to be incredibly careful around humans, and weren’t supposed to have physical contact with them unless absolutely necessary. Even then, it could be considered a hazard.   
  
Focusing, Kanda made sure to repress as much of his own energy as possible. Even if his power had been reduced due to the loss of his innocence, his celestial energy in comparison to a human could still be harmful. Powers weren’t created to have contact with humans, and there was no telling what the repercussions of physical contact could be.  
  
Kanda took a small breath. When he was sure he’d repressed his energy to the best of his ability, he very gingerly tried to move Alma’s hand. If he did this correctly, then Alma likely wouldn’t notice-  
  
Alma shifted, causing Kanda to freeze. The mortal’s face turned slightly, then sleepily his eyes blinked open.  
  
Bright blue irises met dark indigo.  
  
Kanda stiffened, his hand still touching Alma’s. He tried to remind himself that it wasn’t possible for Alma to see him, but the human’s gaze had left him unexpectedly paralyzed.   
  
_‘No, it’s not possible. He can’t see you,’_ Kanda tried to tell himself, despite the sudden wave of unease he felt.  
  
Alma stared a few seconds longer, with a somewhat dazed look – almost as though he were still dreaming. Then, they slowly closed, and his body relaxed.  
  
Kanda breathed a sigh of relief. Asleep. Alma had fallen back asleep. He probably had not even been entirely awake, and Kanda had stupidly gotten shaken up over nothing.  
  
_‘Still…’_ Kanda thought, finding it oddly difficult to move from his position. He knew that Alma couldn’t have actually seen him, and it had only been a strange coincidence that Alma had _happened_ to somehow look in the exact direction of Kanda’s gaze. But now it was as though an irrational fear had been planted in Kanda, and he couldn’t even think to try to move Alma again without somehow waking him.  
  
Gently, Kanda released his touch on Alma’s hand, leaving the bracelet on the mortal’s wrist.  
  


* * *

  
  
The alarm went off shrilly, making Kanda’s ears want to bleed. He grimaced. How could humans tolerate such noise? He knew the point was apparently to disrupt their sleep, but this was _absurd_.  
  
Especially since it didn’t appear to work on Alma consistently. Somehow, by the grace of the almighty, this idiot was managing to _sleep through it._  
  
Kanda glared at the alarm clock as though it were one of the many demons he had slaughtered over the years. He noticed the time as well, and that the alarm had been going for at least _thirty damn minutes_. How on earth could a human ignore such a thing?  
  
Growling lowly, Kanda could feel his patience wear thin. Someone needed to shut the damn thing off, and Alma needed to wake up. By now Kanda had been watching the human long enough to know that he had class that morning, and was probably going to be late by this point.  
  
It didn’t help that Alma apparently lived alone – which meant no one else would be able to get the job done.  
  
Kanda glanced at the alarm, and scowled. He then shifted one of his wings, and very _forcefully_ knocked the alarm clock off the nightstand.  
  
The clock fell to the ground, crashing.   
  
Alma bolted up from his desk, the crash finally waking him. His hair was sticking up on one side, and the same side of his face was red from having lying on it all night. Alma’s eyes were still ridden with sleep, and he groggily looked around, noticing his alarm clock on the ground.  
  
“That’s weird…” Alma murmured, still sounding deliriously tired as he went to pick up the clock off the ground.   
  
His eyes widened when he saw the time.   
  
“Shit!” Alma cursed, as he scrambled to get ready for class.   
  
Kanda watched as the mortal ran around frantically, zipping around from one end of the room to the other, then into the bathroom like some kind of maniac.   
  
At one point, Kanda could hear something crash. He rolled his eyes. Knowing the klutz Alma seemed to be, he probably tripped. _‘Idiot…’_  
  
It really was concerning how _this_ human had ended up in possession of Kanda’s innocence.  
  
The bathroom door swung open, and Alma ran out, haphazardly dressed and trying to throw his notebooks into his messenger bag. Once that was done, Alma looked around. “Keys – crap, where did I put my keys!?” He wondered, as he tried to figure out where he had left his apartment keys at.  
  
Kanda watched with a blank expression as Alma searched the apartment frantically. He noticed that Alma wasn’t usually _this_ much of a mess in the mornings, though it wasn’t the first time the human had woken up late. Alma apparently was the type to always be rushing to get things together at the last minute.  
  
Kanda huffed quietly, then glanced around the apartment. He then caught sight of Alma’s keys on the kitchen counter.   
  
When Alma didn’t seem to be noticing them, Kanda again flicked the keys to the ground, as they clanged together lightly.  
  
The noise caught Alma’s attention.   He ceased his frenzied searching as he looked over, a somewhat confused look on his face when he saw the keys on the ground. “Did those…just fall…?” Alma questioned, before looking around nervously. “Man, I hope there’s not a ghost here...not that ghosts are…real…”  
  
Kanda felt his eyebrow tick. _Ghost_? This idiot was seriously going to compare Kanda to a _ghost_? Despite the ignorant nature of humans, Kanda felt incredibly insulted; ghosts were such low-energy beings, and Kanda would be _damned_ if he were compared to one.  
  
Exasperation trickled throughout Kanda’s being. Alma looked slightly freaked out, but Kanda could have cared less. Still invisible, Kanda appeared close to Alma and snapped at him. “You’re already late, so fucking _go already!_ ”  
  
Somehow, despite Kanda’s voice technically being inaudible to human ears, something in Alma seemed to alert him of the message as he suddenly appeared to remember he was late. Swiping the keys off the ground, Alma took his bag and ran out the door, quickly locking it then hurrying outside.  
  
“Tch. Dumb human,” Kanda muttered, as he phased through the wall of the apartment and flew outside. He caught sight of Alma exiting the building, as he hurried down the sidewalk. Usually, Alma walked to his university’s campus – but it seemed today he was just short of running there.  
  
Flapping his wings, Kanda flew a bit above Alma, keeping an eye on him. Admittedly, Alma was moving pretty quickly; Kanda could tell even from a distance that the human was still in a bit of a frantic frenzy, clearly trying to get to his class as fast as possible. Alma only bothered to even stop when he came to a crosswalk area.  
  
The light for pedestrians was red, still giving any traffic the right away. Below, Kanda could see Alma look both ways before trying to cross anyway.  
  
Kanda’s jaw tightened in annoyance. _‘That moron’s going to get hit if he’s not careful-‘  
  
_ The sound of wheels screeching reached Kanda’s ears, and he looked just in time to see a car speed around a corner – right toward where Alma was crossing.  
  
Kanda didn’t even think. Diving down, Kanda flew at full speed. He had to act fast, and his mind raced, his thoughts blurred and overpowered by raw instinct. Before Kanda even could realize what he was doing, he harnessed what energy he had, and felt his ethereal body transition into one of flesh, wings dissolving behind him as soon as his feet touched the ground.  
  
Kanda booked it into the street, pushing Alma out of the car’s path just as it swerved, honking as it nearly hit both Alma and Kanda.   
  
Both Alma and Kanda rolled off onto the side, the ground scraping against them. Kanda panted, catching his breath before he realized that he was still _holding_ Alma as they both remained on their sides.  
  
Kanda moved, pushing himself off of Alma. As he did this, he noticed there was some blood seeping through Alma’s jeans just over the knee.   
  
Before Alma could notice, Kanda quickly brushed his hand over the area, healing the wound.  
  
Alma looked up, blinking. He looked confused, and as though he was still processing what had just happened. His eyes soon found Kanda’s. “Who-” He started to ask.  
  
Kanda scoffed, already knowing what Alma was planning to ask but not caring to answer. “Next time pay attention to the damn light,” He sneered. How was it a human could get into so much trouble in one instant?  
  
The sound of heavy wings flapping filled Kanda’s ears, and he turned. He only blinked but for a moment before he then saw he was no longer on the sidewalk with Alma, and was now in a different part of the city: an alley.  
  
In front of him was a principalitie. Three-winged and golden-haired – this was one that Kanda recognized immediately.  
  
He silently cursed. _‘Great,’_ Kanda thought sarcastically, as he could only imagine what sort of lecture this celestial was ready to give him.   
  
“What do you want, Link?” Kanda asked, words even.  
  
The other celestial frowned. “You’ve been absent for over a week now. Surely you didn’t think no one would notice?”  
  
“Tch. Yeah, well you third sphere commanders have only left me hanging there for who knows how long now…” Kanda muttered, unable to conceal the distaste in his tone.  
  
Link was unfazed by the bitter retort. “You’ve taken human form. Why?”  
  
The question caused Kanda to tense up a little. Yes, he had taken form, and he frankly had not even thought it through. The action had been purely instinctual, but now that Kanda could actually think about it he realized how strangely reckless a decision it had been.   
  
This realization didn’t prevent Kanda from attempting to justify it. “That human was about to get hit by a car,” Kanda answered. “And he has my innocence. I couldn’t let anything happen to him.”  
  
Link paused, his lips forming a tight line. “And _how_ did he end up with it?”  
  
Kanda snorted. “I don’t know. Maybe if you hadn’t had interrupted I could have found out.”  
  
“Watch the tongue of yours,” Link clipped. “You’re lucky it’s me who was sent to find you, and not someone who has less patience.”  
  
Before Kanda could argue, Link continued. “Clearly you need to recover it. And if you can’t do that, you at the very least will have to monitor the human.”  
  
Kanda’s eyes flashed. “I’m not some babysitter-“  
  
“It seems you were doing an excellent job just now.”  
  
Incensed, Kanda glared. “That was _different_ ,” He argued lowly.  
  
Link sighed. “Just make sure you maintain the situation appropriately,” He instructed, before his gaze met Kanda’s. “But don’t remain in that flesh form for too long. You know how contagious human tendencies are, and how vulnerable we become in that position.”  
  
Kanda huffed, and looked away. What Link was saying wasn’t anything new – Kanda knew the risks of taking human form well enough.  
  
“I can handle it,” Kanda spoke.  
  
Link raised a brow. “Pride is how the morning star fell. You should remember that.”  
  
Kanda’s eye twitched. “I didn’t ask for a lecture.”  
  
“Perhaps not, but it seemed you needed a reminder,” Link coolly pointed out. “I’ll be checking in periodically, but otherwise will leave you to your new assignment.”  
  
Link’s wings flapped behind him, and he eyed Kanda. “Don’t get too distracted,” He warned, before taking off.  
  
Kanda watched with an annoyed look as Link left. “Tch. Distracted,” He spat under his breath. As if Kanda would actually let himself somehow get _distracted_ when his innocence was involved. What sort of celestial did Link even take him for? It was close to infuriating, and a thorough reminder of why Kanda had never been fond of the principalities to begin with.   
  
Glancing around, Kanda also realized that the stupid celestial had just left Kanda in some random location – which meant Kanda would have to figure out how to locate Alma again.  
  
He exhaled. Well, at least by this point Kanda had a good idea of Alma’s schedule and where the human would be.  
  
Since transitioning into a human body took so much energy, Kanda was hesitant to revert back to his angel form right away. Kanda had never fully allowed himself to take a mortal form before, primarily because he had never been in a situation that called for it. He knew it was not something commonly done by any of the celestials, and most tended to avoid it; as Link had pointed out, turning mortal did increase vulnerability, and a part of that came with the energy used to take on the form.   
  
With that being the case, Kanda realized it would be better to just hang on a bit longer as a human and try to see what he could accomplish before turning back. If it were possible to avoid turning mortal a second time, that would be preferable.  
  
Kanda started along after that, eventually learning that he was on the opposite side of the city from where Alma would be. That was a bit annoying, especially given that Kanda was having to walk among the other pedestrians. The city was so busy, and humans were constantly distracted in one way or another; Kanda did his best to avoiding bumping into them, but it wasn’t easy.  
  
Eventually, Kanda managed to get to the area where Alma would most likely be. He wasn’t sure how much time it had taken him to get there, but Kanda knew that if Alma had finished class he would probably be at work. The human had a job at some little café near the campus he went to, and seemed to spend all of his time working there if he wasn’t studying or in class.  
  
As he passed the café, Kanda glanced in the window. Before he could even spot Alma, he felt a pull though; that familiar tug from the innocence, gentle and vibrating in his ears.   
  
Kanda glanced through one of the windows, and then spotted Alma. He looked like he had just gotten to work, and from the way his manager was looking at him Kanda was willing to bet Alma had gotten there late.  
  
Kanda hesitated. Despite his earlier resolve to remain in human form in case he could find out something more, Kanda realized it was not a particularly well-constructed plan. What would he even do? Go inside and start _talking_ to Alma or something?  
  
…Actually, Kanda figured that wasn’t the worst idea in the world. It was certainly better than wandering around and wasting anymore time.   
  
Plus, there was also the chance Kanda _could_ find out just how it was Alma had acquired the innocence.  
  
Taking a breath, Kanda went inside. He was immediately hit with the smell of freshly ground coffee beans, which was strong but not terribly overpowering.  
  
Behind the counter, Kanda could see the manager talking (well, more like scolding) Alma. She was a tiny woman, but had a fierce energy to her; Kanda struggled to recall her name, but he thought it was For or something like that.  
  
Alma smiled weakly at For. “Ah, I wasn’t _that_ late-“  
  
“Um, you were late almost a _half hour_?” For pointed out, arms crossed. She sighed in agitation. “You’re lucky we’re not busy right now.”  
  
For’s tone caused Alma to wince a little, and he nodded. “Yeah…” He said. “I’m sorry. It’s just my test ran over-“  
  
For shook her head. “Just try not to let it happen again,” She reiterated, before heading to the back room.  
  
Alma was left at the front counter at that point. Since there wasn’t anyone else working and the café only had a few people in it, Kanda figured now if any would be a good time to approach Alma.   
  
Silently, Kanda _prayed_ this wouldn’t be a mistake.  
  
Kanda had just approached the counter when Alma took note of him.   
  
“Hey, how can I help you today-“ Alma started, before cutting off as he looked at Kanda. The human did a double take before his eyes widened. “Y-You’re the guy from earlier!”  
  
Kanda stared at Alma. “You’re observant,” He deadpanned.  
  
The tone didn’t appear to throw off Alma in any way, as he still appeared to taking in Kanda’s presence. He also looked as though he were struggling on just what to say exactly. “I-“ Alma started, faltering a little.  
  
Kanda bit back a sigh, already feeling incredibly exasperated. “Look-“  
  
“How’d you just come out of nowhere like that?” Alma suddenly asked, catching Kanda off guard. “I didn’t even think anyone was around, and then it’s like you just disappeared!“  
  
Kanda rolled his eyes, before looking away, his mind flickering back to Link. “I had to deal with something right after…”  
  
“Yeah, but I didn’t get a chance to even thank you,” Alma pointed out, as smiled at Kanda. “Would you like something? Whatever you want, and it’ll be on the house!”  
  
Kanda didn’t respond right away, but god, he did _not_ want this human making any kind of fuss or anything. “It’s fine. I don’t drink coffee or anything,” He said, just choosing some random excuse to give Alma.  
  
“Oh, well I can get you tea then!” Alma chirped.   
  
The corner of Kanda’s mouth twitched, but he bit his tongue. Alma appeared to be annoyingly persistent with this whole gratitude thing.  
  
As Alma went ahead and prepared something (Kanda had no idea what – he never paid attention to the things humans consumed), Kanda eyed the bracelet on Alma’s wrist. He noticed something seemed…off with it, though Kanda couldn’t exactly tell what.   
  
After a moment, Kanda spoke. “Hey,” He said. “That bracelet. Where did you get it?”  
  
Alma paused, blinking. “This?” He asked, pointing to the lotus bracelet.  
  
“You’re not wearing any others,” Kanda pointed out.  
  
“I actually found it…it had been left outside,” Alma explained. “I tried to see if I could find the owner, but no one seemed to know or wanted it. It seemed like a shame to get rid of it.”  
  
Kanda exhaled. Well, of course no one would have known since it belonged to _Kanda_.  
  
“Why do you ask?”  
  
The question pulled Kanda from his thoughts, but it quickly occurred to him this could be his chance. “I had lost one like it…thought it might be the same one.”  
  
Alma looked surprised. “Really?” He asked. “Crap, if it’s yours you should have it back!”  
  
There was an earnest, apologetic look in Alma’s eyes as he took the bracelet off. “Seriously, if it’s yours I had no idea – but here.”  
  
Kanda was surprised; in all honesty, he hadn’t expected Alma to hand the bracelet over so _easily._ But Kanda would have been foolish to refuse it, and went ahead to take it when Alma offered it.  
  
As soon as Kanda touched the bracelet, he knew what was off.  
  
Freezing up a little, Kanda stopped. Alma then looked at him questioningly.  
  
“Actually,” Kanda started, as he pushed the bracelet back toward Alma. “Keep it.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Alma asked, sounding somewhat perplexed.  
  
Kanda nodded. “It’s…fine. Don’t worry about it,” He said, before turning to leave.  
  
“Wait!” Alma started, causing Kanda to glance back.   
  
Alma placed the tea on the counter. “Here. I know it’s not a lot, but _at least_ take it? I can’t do much else to thank you for earlier.”  
  
Kanda shrugged. “Stop worrying about it so much,” He spoke, though he took the cup if only to get Alma to stop fussing.   
  
It worked, as a small smile graced Alma’s lips. “So, are you going to tell me your name? Mine is Alma.”  
  
As if he didn’t know, though Alma naturally would have had no idea. Kanda wavered at first with his answer though, before responding. “It’s Kanda.”  
  
“Kanda. Nice to meet you,” Alma spoke, as he beamed. “You should come back sometime.”  
  
Expression neutral, Kanda’s eyes flickered to the bracelet. His mouth remained in a thin line. “Yeah. Maybe.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Things had gotten more complicated. Far more complicated.  
  
Night had fallen, and Kanda had reverted back to his angelic form. He was outside, under the sky that was clear and cloudless. Up above, he could make out some of the constellations, which glistened against the onyx sky, brightly shining along side the thin, silvery slither of a crescent moon.  
  
Kanda rested an elbow on his knee, as his other leg dangled off the edge of the rooftop of Alma’s apartment building. It was late, and Kanda knew that the human had fallen asleep about an hour or so ago; after returning to his normal form, Kanda had continued to keep an eye on Alma for the rest of the day.  
  
Behind him, Kanda could hear the flapping of large wings, and he could feel the familiar buzz of a celestial’s presence. He didn’t have to turn to know who it was.  
  
“I told you not to get distracted,” Link said, as he stood behind Kanda.  
  
Kanda rolled his eyes, but didn’t turn. “I didn’t. Things got complicated.”  
  
Link’s eyes narrowed. “How so?”  
  
Kanda paused, not answering right away. He wasn’t even sure how to explain it, or what he was going to tell Link, but there really was no way around it.  
  
Kanda sighed. “The form my innocence took. It was a bracelet,” Kanda started. “The human was going to give it back, but I told him to keep it.”  
  
Surprise flickered across Link’s face, before his expression hardened. “And why, pray tell, were you compelled to do _that_?”  
  
Kanda glanced back at Link, then away. “When I went to take it, the innocence was only partially there,” He explained, words even. “That bracelet alone wouldn’t allow me to summon my weapon.”  
  
“So why not take that part still? If your innocence was divided-“  
  
Kanda turned back, sharply. There was an annoyed look on his face. “I feel it completely around the stupid human. When he’s wearing the bracelet.”  
  
Suddenly, Link understood. His expression was solemn. “I see,” He spoke, voice low.   
  
The response piqued Kanda’s attention, indigo eyes flickering back toward Link. “You want to tell me what the hell is going on with that?” Kanda questioned. If Link understood the situation any better than Kanda did, then Kanda _really_ needed to know.  
  
Link huffed quietly. “You should be aware of how your own innocence works, given you were a power.”  
  
The insult came coolly, but grated onto Kanda scathingly. “Are you going to tell me or _not_?”  
  
A sigh escaped Link. “I can’t say for certain,” He responded, after a beat of a pause. “Not for now, at least.”  
  
Kanda frowned. The vagueness of Link’s answer was not something he was pleased to hear, and it frankly aggravated Kanda. The principalities were in the third sphere, and although they weren’t around angels they tended to witness how humans interacted more with anything celestial. Kanda of course had been demoted to the third sphere as well, but he hadn’t been there long enough to focus on humans alone – his attention had always been elsewhere.  
  
Link glanced at Kanda. “Obviously, we can’t ignore this. So from now on your assignment is to watch this human.”  
  
Kanda wanted to sneer at the command, but refrained from doing so – only because it was what he had been doing already. And not having to worry about Link or another principalitie getting in the way _was_ preferable.  
  
Link flapped his wings, readying them as he prepared to leave. He paused one last time before doing so, eying Kanda carefully. “I know you’ve taken human form already, but don’t be reckless. Innocence fractured in any way is more easily destroyed, and if the mortal is keeping it in tact then he needs to be protected as well.”  
  
A breath of silence, then Link added, “You can’t ensure that if you make yourself vulnerable.”  
  
“You think I don’t know that?” Kanda mumbled, irritated at the way Link seemed to talk down to him.   
  
“I just want to make sure you _understand_ how important this is. You don’t have any leeway for failure.”  
  
_Failure._   
  
Kanda’s fist clenched. Link may have been masking the implication with a seemingly diligent reminder, but Kanda knew well enough what Link was getting at: the failure Kanda had essentially been as a power, and the recklessness that had lost him his innocence in the first place. It made Kanda seethe internally.  
  
Whether Link noticed how Kanda how taken the comment or not, he didn’t appear too concerned. “I’ll return when I have answers.”  
  
Kanda didn’t turn, but heard Link depart. As soon as the celestial’s energy melted away, Kanda knew he was alone.  
  
Kanda exhaled, feeling a bit calmer now that Link was gone. He was still frustrated, and confused, but at least now he could _think_.  
  
But, Kanda truthfully wasn’t sure what was going on. He knew he had felt the wholeness of his innocence; it had been too strong and lulling to ignore. Yet, when he had gone to take the bracelet from Alma earlier that day, the aura had reduced significantly – almost as if it needed to be connected to Alma to sustain itself.  
  
Kanda shook his head. Whatever was going on, he would simply have to figure it out. As annoying as Link was, Kanda did hope the other celestial might be able to determine what it was that was going on, but for now, Kanda would simply have to keep an eye on the mortal.  
  
This time, he wouldn’t fail. Not again.


End file.
